


Eagle in mourning

by Treo_dishks



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Death Fic, M/M, altmal feels, sad fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-15
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-04-04 13:13:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4138884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treo_dishks/pseuds/Treo_dishks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Malik's death reaches Altair. This is about how Altair reacts to Malik's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eagle in mourning

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like writing a sad AltMal one shot. So I wrote one.

Empty.

That was what Altair felt when he heard about Malik’s death. The entire world was forgotten in that moment. His entire being was filled with the hollow feeling that is usually felt when one hears about a close one’s demise. He did not even see who it was that informed him, their voice but a distant hum in his ears. He was trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was suddenly in a world where Malik ceased to exist. His body felt numb all over. 

He made his way to Malik’s room with an empty expression on his face. He walked swiftly through the halls, but as he reached his friend’s room he slowed down. He stopped at his door and hesitated. There were novices and assassins running down the hall. There was chaos outside but all Altair could think about was his friend on the other side of the door. The other noises were just a buzz around him.

Finally, he took courage and opened the door. The sight that greeted him shattered his heart into a million bits and killed something inside of him. Malik’s body was on the bed, right next to the window. Sunlight streamed through the window. There was blood on the mattress and the pillows. His head was lying on the ground next to the bed.   
Altair stepped to Malik’s side. He looked at his severed head. Malik’s eyes were half opened and it looked as if he was staring at the ceiling. Altair found empty brown eyes looking at him. Eyes which would always flash with annoyance at Altair’s stupid movements, eyes which would darken with desire at his touch, and eyes which would shine with love and affection. He would never see such expressions again from them.

His knees gave in and he suddenly dropped down beside Malik’s body. He did not even know how he had reached Malik. He laid his palm on Malik’s chest, as he usually would after their coupling. But this time he felt no racing heartbeat, he felt nothing. 

At this moment, a dam broke in his mind and all of the memories began to flow. 

His first friend had been Malik. His first sexual encounter had been with Malik, but there had never been any mentions of feelings at that time. After that disastrous mission at Solomon Temple, they both had drifted apart. Malik had been angry with him. It was Altair’s arrogance and pride which had cost Malik his arm and Kadar’s death. But somehow Malik had forgiven him. They had become friends again. Malik had helped Altair rebuild the brotherhood after Al Mualim’s death. 

They never realized that they loved each other until Altair’s marriage to Maria. Altair only remembered that Malik had been bitter and sad. He had been angry with every decision Altair had taken around that time. His words had been sharp and his insults cut deep in Altair. This had hurt Altair, but he never realized the reason. 

It was Maria who had made him realize that he was in love with Altair. She had been very understanding and had even asked him to go talk to Malik. And when he had gone to Malik, he had found that it was true. They both had fought first, each shouting foul words at each other. Then Altair had had enough and he had kissed him. Malik had kissed him back and they both had fallen into his bed together. Afterwards, when Malik had slept in his arms, Altair had realized just how much he loved him. They had been through so much together that it just made sense. 

After that it had been good. They had worked together to build their brotherhood. Altair had had kids and Malik was happy for him. Malik had been a favorite among his children, especially Sef. Sef had worshipped the man and his every move. And he had lost both of them. It was his fault. It was always Altair’s fault.

Altair felt that a major portion of the grief which Malik experienced in his life was his fault. His arrogance had cost Malik his arm and his brother, his ignorance had almost broken Malik’s heart and now, his movements had killed him. Malik had forgiven him for his follies but he had never forgiven himself. He could never forgive himself.

He would never hear Malik’s voice again. He would never hear Malik shouting obscenities at him. He would never hear Malik call him a ‘novice’ again and he would never hear Malik whisper those three words to him. Both of them were not good at discussing their feelings, so they settled for actions instead. Even so, at rare times they would tell each other how much they meant to the other. Altair had treasured such moments. He would never hear them again.

The fact was that Malik had touched a very deep place in his heart. He had torn open Altair’s chest, broken through every single wall of his and had entered his mind and soul. It felt as if Malik had become a part of him, a part of his soul. He never felt that way towards his wife. No, never. This feeling was attributed only to Malik, not to anyone else. Malik was his soulmate. And now he was lying here on the bed, head severed, lifeless. 

His eyes burned and tears formed there. He was not much of a crier. He had cried often when he was little. When Malik had his arm amputated he had shouted and screamed. Altair had shed a few tears when he had heard those screams. He had cried (out of happiness) when Malik had told him he loved him for the first time, he had cried when Sef had died and now he was crying because his best friend was dead. He would probably not cry after this because he was empty now. His flame had extinguished. Malik had died and with his death, a part of Altair was gone. Altair’s heart belonged to Malik and with him his heart was gone too. 

He would feel nothing much from now, for he no longer possessed a heart to feel.

He held onto Malik’s cloth and cried. Silent tears made their way down his cheeks and dampened Malik’s robes. Those tears held meaning. They were tears of grief and guilt and anger. Each of those tears was for all the pain he had caused Malik. Each of those tears was for those wonderful happy memories which he had created with Malik. He shed those drops for the fact that Malik would never move or walk again, that he would not see Malik’s smile or feel his touch. 

By the time the last tear fell, he had become a broken shell of a man. There was no life in his soul now, just a wallowing pit of guilt, sorrow, anger and revenge. The Altair which everyone knew and was proud of was gone. There was only this man who felt nothing. He swore to himself that he would kill the man responsible for his lover's death.

Outside he heard the cries of the battle. It would only be a matter of time before someone would come to call him, but until then he would stay with Malik. 

-^-

An hour or so later, Darim opened the door. “Baba, you must come now. We need you.”

Altair was staring outside the window. He was still on the floor, Malik’s hand in his. Darim saw the grief plastered on his father’s face. 

“Baba, I know that you are sad, we all are. Dai Malik was a great man and leader. We all loved him. I know how much he meant to you, but right now the assassins need you more. They need their Mentor.”

Altair nodded.

“I will be right along. I just need a few more minutes,” Altair spoke. The voice that came out of him was devoid of any feeling. It came out like a hoarse whisper. Darim only nodded and stood outside.

Altair closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of Malik one last time. He did not know if he would survive this battle or not. This was his last chance to be with him. He knew that the assassins would bury Malik as soon as the battle was over. 

He prayed that Malik was in peace at least in death. He hoped that he had not felt much agony when he had died. He silently bid farewell to Malik and kissed Malik’s fingers. He reached over to Malik’s face and gently closed his lids.

“I am sorry,” and then, “I love you, Malik.”

He said it so silently that it was lower than a whisper. Then a sudden memory came in his mind. During his first few days as Mentor, Altair would fall asleep with the reports in his hand. It was a bit tedious for him. On such occasions, he remembered that Malik would storm into the Grandmaster's room and slap him on the head. When Altair would growl at him for startling him, Malik would only grin and call him a 'lazy novice'. Then he would punish Altair by making him do the reports all night long.

His lips turned up a fraction at that memory. He did not know why that particular memory came up, but he remembered it fondly. He shuffled to his feet and looked outside the window, where the battle was going on. He turned around and made his way to the door, but before closing the door he looked inside again.  
“Safety and Peace, Malik,” he whispered. 

And in his mind he could hear Malik replying,

'Upon you as well, Novice.'

**Author's Note:**

> I have not played the game so I don't know much about what happens in the moments before and after Malik's death.


End file.
